


A Battle of Wills

by imaginary_iby



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Episode Tag, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 02:57:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4649592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_iby/pseuds/imaginary_iby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As this fic is inspired by a spoilery behind-the-scenes pic from 6.05, I'm hesitant to make my summary too descriptive.  If you've seen it, you'll most definitely know, and if you haven't but you're intrigued, all relevant links are in the notes. \o/</p><p>Let's just say that Danny tries to weasel his way out of Five-0's latest method of team-bonding, and he's willing to use everything at his disposal, to do so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Battle of Wills

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on two pictures, one that Masi posted, which can be found [HERE,](https://instagram.com/p/6qk438plI7/) and another from the wardrobe department, [HERE.](https://instagram.com/p/6CRNAku9XO/) I made a few guesses as to why the team was running, and decided that it would be cute if Danny and Steve squabbled about the evils of jogging. 
> 
> Masi has since posted [ANOTHER PIC,](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CM-tjkKVAAEsV-B.jpg:large) which explains things a bit more, and Lenkov has since posted [THIS, OMG BRACE YOURSELF.](https://instagram.com/p/6scvTXPcik/)
> 
> I decided to post this anyway, just because it was already written, and I hoped that it might be a bit of fun to read. \o/

Danny cracks an eye open, and while the sight that greets him is usually one of his favourites, this morning it only serves to make him frown. 

Steve is freshly showered, naked, padding around the bedroom as he gathers his clothes for the day. That alone makes Danny a happy man, and he has to fight the urge to reach out and squeeze Steve’s ass, maybe wish Steve a _very_ good morning indeed. 

The problem lies in the second set of clothes that Steve is setting out, and dictatorial bosses-come-partners who have access to your gym-gear do _not_ deserve morning blowjobs.

Danny says as much, although most of it slurred into his pillow. 

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, and if the man thinks that he can act the innocent fool, hand on hip, hip cocked just so, cock… soft and sleek and familiar, and right in front of Danny’s face, and wait, what was Danny thinking again?

Steve breaks the spell when he shrugs into his black tank top. The hem brushes against his skin, falling to rest just where the trail of hair below his navel grows thicker, flares out a little.

Tank top. Gym gear. Evil Steve. Danny grunts and sits up against the headboard, because it’s time to tackle this argument head on.

“I’m not wearing those.” He juts his chin at the shorts and tee Steve has laid out for him. “I’m wearing my usual clothes, clipping my badge and my gun to my belt, and heading to work. Because I am a Detective, and at no point did I consent to your sudden and, quite frankly, disturbing attempt to turn us all into Navy SEALs.”

Steve’s left eyebrow rises high, even as his hands slip down low, getting himself comfortable in his freshly-donned boxer briefs. “Danno, trust me, it would take a hell of a lot more than a week of morning runs, to turn you into a SEAL.”

Danny scowls up at him. “Good. The fact that I’m not you accounts for 90% of my charm.”

Steve’s smirk could power a city block. “Says the man who is in my bed.” 

Point, but Danny’s not about to concede that. “Don’t kid yourself, babe, I’m mostly here for the mattress.”

To demonstrate this, Danny slides down onto his back, sprawling out across the sheets. It’s time to change tack – if he can’t convince Steve to leave him the hell alone, he can definitely distract the man until they’ve missed their meet-up time with the team. 

He kicks the sheets down, legs falling open and hands coming to rest on his chest.

“You wanna work out?” It’s gratifying to see the way Steve’s pupils darken, the way he sways forward as though he wants nothing more than to crawl into bed. “Mmm?” Danny murmurs, and it’s more of a groan, really, one of those noises that lets slip when Steve’s tucked down beneath the sheets, head bobbing between Danny’s thighs. “Anything you want. C’mon, you know how hot and sweaty we can get.” He spreads his legs a little further. “Anything you want.”

It’s working, it’s working, Steve’s resolve is crumbling, his fingers are on the waist of his briefs. And then his cell beeps. Steve is unbearably incapable of ignoring his phone, lest someone require his prompt disarming of a bomb, etc etc. Danny laments the fact that this isn’t so far-fetched. 

Steve’s attention shifts, and his lips thin as he processes the message. “Grover,” he says, throwing the phone on the bed and stepping into his running shorts with renewed enthusiasm. 

Sure enough, Danny is faced with a picture of Grover, decked out in blue and orange sports gear and looking impatient. And competitive.

“He’s already there.” Steve’s tone leaves no doubt that this is unacceptable, and that it is Danny’s duty, as Steve’s partner both on and off the clock, to get his ass in gear.

Danny knows the power of his own nakedness. He knows that Steve likes what he sees: sturdy muscles beneath golden hair – because, yes, he works out, thank you very much, boxing and weights and time on the treadmill, where there is an air conditioner and 50% less bugs and things are _civilized._

He also knows that there’s basically no power on this earth, that can battle Steve’s desire to compete with Grover at everything. Compete, and win, thoroughly, absolutely, comprehensively. 

Danny rolls out of bed. He might just kill someone, before this morning is done.

-

Scratch that. Danny is _definitely_ going to kill someone, and that someone is the 6’4” cheater who is currently keeping pace alongside them in his golf cart. 

“Hurt my hip,” Grover had said, limping for added effect. He span a tale of woe so fantastical, he may as well have injured himself while wrestling an alligator, and it was all Danny could do to stop Steve from buying a ticket to Florida via the American Airlines app on his phone.

And so now here Danny is. Plodding down the street with Chin by his side – and wow, those are some bright shorts; glaring daggers into the back of Kono – because seriously, would it kill her to sweat even a little bit; and outright ignoring the existence of the schmuck whose bed he’d woken up in.

That leaves Grover. Grover, with his obnoxious megaphone, and his sarcastic words of encouragement. Grover, who if he so much as hands out a cryptic crossword clue, regarding the length of Danny’s legs, will find himself the victim of faulty golf cart brakes. 

It’s inevitable, really. Danny falls behind. Sprints, he can handle. Mad dashes after criminals, he has those covered. A solid effort on the treadmill, sure, no problem. But mile after mile in the Hawaiian sun, with nothing but a Ninja SEAL and two locals who luxuriate in hot weather for company, and he falls behind.

“You’ll do better tomorrow,” Steve says when the team finally comes to a halt.

Danny figures that this is probably true – he’ll have so much extra energy, what with never blowing Steve ever again.

The only problem with this, of course, is that the world keeps turning, and Danny keeps waking up to the sight of Steve, shower-fresh and naked, padding around the bedroom. It’s been a hellish week of morning jogs, and an even worse week of no sex, and Danny’s resolve is slowly crumbling.

It’s a good thing, then, that when he wakes up on Friday morning, he knows immediately that he’s finally won. Steve is clean and warm from his shower, and very very naked. What’s different this morning, however, is that he’s not getting gym clothes out; rather, he’s curled up on his side, pressed close to Danny, and his eyes are big and beautiful and imploring.

Danny jerks Steve off quickly, before Steve has a chance to change his mind, and once he’s an endearing, loveable, satisfied lump of limbs under the blanket, Danny steals his phone. 

\-- _Training cancelled, we’ll call it a half day_ \--

“I saw that,” Steve protests, but he’s already rubbing against Danny’s hip like he wants to go again, so Danny slides the phone away and takes the victory while he can. 

It’s been a long hard week, but this is exactly the kind of marathon that Danny can handle.


End file.
